


Noon Bell

by Missy



Category: Little House on the Prairie - Laura Ingalls Wilder
Genre: F/M, Married Couple, Married Sex, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-09
Updated: 2011-08-09
Packaged: 2017-10-22 10:26:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/237092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Almanzo and Laura take a brief respite from threshing season together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Noon Bell

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Porn Battle XII, prompt: Little House on the Prairie – Laura Ingalls Wilder, Almanzo/Laura, [any]. thank you to Amber for beta!

The lunch bell rings, and Laura wipes her sweaty forehead and sets out a plate of apple turnovers and hard cheddar. The haymowing is nearly done, and soon there will be a party, another thresher’s dinner.

The arm encircling her waist is entirely familiar, as are the lips that caress her neck. “Did you remember the cinnamon?” he teases her.

She gently pushes back against her husband. “I didn’t forget a thing this time.” She turns in his arms and finds herself quite soundly kissed. Her husband leans into her with a soft moan, his hands searching out the ties holding her dress together.

She pulls back and flushes. “It’s the middle of the afternoon!”

He grins. “And we’re married,” he points out. “Newlyweds are supposed to fuss and croon.”

She shakes her head. Ma and Pa had never been this way, but then she had never known them as newlyweds without the responsibility of children. Manly’s hand slip between the laces of her dress, caressing bare flesh as he bent to kiss her throat. “Laura, Laura,” he murmurs. “You’re so pretty.”

Laura smiles at the compliment. Manly is solid; he holds her tight and warm against his torso. She might do anything with her hands when he holds her this way; press a hand to his bare neck, and stroke his warm chest. Her lips slowly trail downward while his hands massage her breasts; whole big palms, working her soft skin to tender arousal. Laura whimpers and leans back into his arms.

“Bed,” he suggests.

“Bed?” This early?

“We’re real grown-ups,” he says. “No one can make us stay up if we don’t want to.”

Laura smiles. “Yes,” she takes his arm and he escorts her to their small bed. “I suppose we are.”

As he helps her out of her dress, teasing her breast, flanks, stomach and hips with his hands, Laura realizes just how patient her husband is. Many of the girls she’d met in school hadn’t found a wonderful, gentle husband like Manly. And, she thinks, as his hand slips between her legs, none of them would be so lucky as to sample such nuptial joys.

Manly loves her. He loves her even when she’s dusted over with flour and cranky from the heat, even when she doesn’t remember to sugar the pies and when the cows won’t give milk. He loves her in ways she’d never imagined a man could love a woman, with his lips and hands and tongue.

“Laura,” he gasps at last, “can I come in?”

She opens her eyes, seeing the need in his. She inclines her head and parts herself, her knees, her heart. “Yes,” she says, and he enters every part of her at once.


End file.
